It’s No Secret

Justice cries bitter and alone under the midnight sky.
Forerunners of truth from fallacies construe d collapse and die.
Widows gather now beneath tall ancient oaks to make amends.
Justice is undeserving; its crepe notions self-serving until the end.

So now parodies drew simple on even cue parade and prance down the way.
Men of lesser fortune, men without fame, court the jester to their shame.
So howbeit that justice cries tonight…since there is no wrong, nor right.

So render the dead emotions which chase cats under a noonday sun.
Lost feelings warm swim with sharks until the frenzy is done.
Lame now is the sight of simpletons who claim to see.
Loathsome are those chained by their minds yet claiming to be free.

So the days now sleep on a whisper to the fleeting in heart.
And the nights become colder to those alone in the dark.
Therefore whereunto this shallow cry it should lend.
 That the coming; the approaching, the ever nearer end

“For it is no secret what God can do...what He has done for others, He will do for you”

J. Allen Wilson © Three 2007